Gordon Freeman

Barney pulls the bridge shut almost as soon as Gordon touches down in the building across the road. They've just come from apartments in foul condition, but this building's suffered more; the holes in the walls are enormous, and the floor feels as if it might give way at any moment. Some previous Resistance member took the precaution of bridging the gap between this building and the next with a length of metal walkway. It's very thoughtful of them, but Gordon can't help but wish he still had his old long-jump module. That's just not solid-looking enough for him.

That, and he can hear the whirring, thupping sound of oncoming rotors from somewhere very close by indeed.

The group of fighters tasked with getting civilians out of the line of fire opens on an unremarkable side door of a thoroughly unremarkable building. The walls here are largely grey brick, scribbled here and there with graffiti in a mingle of languages- English, Spanish, something that might be Russian or Ukrainian. A tattered poster of a white-bearded man in a business suit hangs limply from the wall next to a roll-up garage door.

Barney leans forward to rap swiftly on the smaller door, as there's no handle to open it from the outside. The first thing anyone sees of what lies beyond is the muzzle of a shotgun. Before any hostile reaction can happen, the wielder leans forward: a bald, bespectacled, lab-coated figure, blinking in the light of day. "Barney?" he says. "Alyx? My God, when did you get here? And who are these people?"